Tuesday, June 18, 2024

Messages from a Higher Plane

June 15, 2024 by  
Filed under ., Newsletter

In many ways, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are celebrations of the archetypes of mother and father, a celebration of you and me, and all the roles we play in this cosmic drama called life.

If you’ve been receiving my emails for a while, you may have heard this story I shared about my father a couple of years ago.

I got such a great response from that email, with people sharing about how touching it was, that I thought it was worth sharing that story again.

To all those who miss their moms or dads, my heart goes out to you.

It’s been over 20 years since my dad died…rather suddenly.

Just hours before he died, I encountered a series of synchronicities that conveyed to me that at the deepest level all was well.

I’ll get to that in a moment.

Suddenly, at the age of 79, my dad didn’t feel well. My brother seemed really concerned and urged me to come out to see him. Three months earlier, when I visited my parents at Christmas, my dad was doing his daily mile-long swims.

I flew to Detroit, and days later at the dinner table, my father had a stroke and was hospitalized. When they ran some tests, they discovered advanced cancer.

I stayed for a couple of weeks. Things stabilized, and my dad was urging me to go file my taxes (of all things), so I returned home to Denver.

But the very next night, things took a turn for the worse. So, I booked a flight back to Detroit and flew out early in the morning.

It was surreal being on that flight pondering the imminent loss of my Dad (I was just 36 at the time, and I couldn’t believe this was happening — I thought he would live well into his 90s).

While on that flight to Detroit, something deeply reassuring happened…

The gentleman sitting next to me (who didn’t know why I was flying to Detroit) turned to me and said:

“I travel a lot, and when I stop at Cracker Barrel restaurants, I pick up stones with positive words written on them, like Peace, Hope, Dream, etc.”

I got chills…

Cracker Barrel was a restaurant my dad talked about a lot.

Then this gentleman said:

“I carry one of those stones with me at times… and then I meet someone, and I know the stone is for them. This one is for you…”

He placed a stone in my hand with gold lettering spelling, “God.”

To me, this was a message from the Divine — from Source, from God, whatever you want to call this field that connects us all — saying that all was well at the deepest level.

I knew it was my dad sending me a message before he left his “temporary human disguise.”

When I arrived at the airport, I drove straight to see my dad. As I entered the door, my mom said, “He’s gone.”

Her minister was there 20 minutes earlier, and said a prayer while he and my mom held my dad’s hands.

Instead of feeling like I should have gotten there earlier, the encounter on the plane gave me a deep sense of comfort during this time of great loss. I knew that it had all unfolded perfectly.

My mom got to say goodbye to her best friend by herself. They had been married for 43 years. Needless to say, my mom was devastated by this sudden loss.

I spoke at my dad’s funeral and read the “Things I learned from you…” (which I’ve shared at the bottom of this email). I had given this to him just two months before he fell ill.

The magic wasn’t over. Something astonishing happened at dad’s memorial luncheon. It was my dad getting my attention again. Maybe I’ll tell that story another time…

We can connect to our loved ones on the other side in myriad ways. We can talk to them and ask for support.

They communicate with us in feelings of love, comfort, and joy. They also give us signs (in the form of songs, objects, images, sayings, license plates, and synchronistic happenings) to let us know they are there and that we are loved.

And to support us in keeping faith in our soul’s journey with all our struggles, hopes, and dreams. And to encourage us to live with gratitude and to have a sense of humor.

What ultimately matters in a human life is leaving the world a better place. That’s the true legacy. Dad left the world a much better place by being in it. He was loving, kind, and generous, not just to his family and friends, but also to strangers and acquaintances.

He made it a point to strike up a conversation (or use his wit and dry sense of humor to get a laugh) with anyone he met or encountered in daily life, including the owner of the ice cream parlor he frequented, the receptionist at the neighborhood bank, and the maintenance staff at the GM headquarters.

In gratitude to fathers who make the world a better place and to all those who offer love and support in its many forms. Happy Father’s Day!

Wishing you many blessings on this journey!

Lisa

P.S. On Mother’s Day, I shared an astonishing message from my mom—on a sweatshirt of all places.

Wishing you many blessings on your journey!

Love you and miss you, Mom and Dad,

Lisa

 

 

 

 

 

 

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